


Non-Stop

by Dorktapus42



Series: Come Together-verse [33]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, Not Fluff, Not quite angst either, Oh hey Author's worldview. huh, Other, kind of angst?, mild death mentions?, nothing concrete or anything, this one's hard to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:23:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktapus42/pseuds/Dorktapus42
Summary: \How do you write like tomorrow won’t arrive?Write day and night like you need it to survive?\Author-centric!





	Non-Stop

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend listening to Hamilton's Non-Stop while reading this.  
> Here's a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPgE7PNzXag

The lamp flickered and went out. Burnt bulb.

An emergency candle for power outages was lit and he continued, page filling up with writings coming from somewhere, somebody. Who? He had no idea. But it needed to be written down. 

So he wrote it. Pencil to paper, his hand a connection from one place to another. 

He eventually stopped, the candle almost down to a stub. Time had passed, he just didn’t know how much. 

He looked at the clock. 2 AM. He should get some sleep. 

But he had time to read them. They could be important. 

He wasn’t going to ignore them this time.

 

\---------

 

“If… if any of them die. Would you have Host read these?”

Chase looked at him in shock. “Author-”

“Please?”

He took the sheaf of yellow papers, glancing at the penciled words. 

“Why do you even have these?” And some of them were pretty specific- there was even one for  _ him _ oh god-

Wait. There were multiples. For… everybody. Different ways, different times-

“Why are there more than one?”

Author just looked down at the pad he’d torn them from, pencil bouncing off the surface from nervousness. 

“How do you know- wait, did you write these into reality?”

Autor looked up at that. “No! Absolutely not!”

“You wrote it down!”

“It has to be in ink! Pencil is perfectly safe, trust me.”

He paused. “It has to be in ink?”

“Yeah. You’ve never noticed? I take a pad and pencil everywhere.”

He guessed that they all had thought that he was just narrating everything-

“But why are there multiples?”

Author fidgeted. “Well, you know when you’re writing something and you don’t really know what you’re writing and you look at it and something tells you that you have to keep ahold of it or something really bad will happen?”

“No.”

“Well that’s what happened.”

Silence. 

“I’ll go take these to Dark.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Chase walked off. 

Author let out a breath. 

Then he sat back against the wall and started writing.

  
  


_ Why do you write like you’re running out of time? _

_ Write day and night like you’re running out of time? _

  
  


Dark looked through the papers. Yandere, Wilford, himself, Chase, Marvin, Jim Jim and Jim-

Wait a minute. One person was missing. 

|Where’s Author’s?|

Chase looked down at the papers. “No idea. I guess we can go find him and ask.”

  
  


_ Why do you write like it’s going out of style? _

_ Write day and night like it’s going out of style? _

  
  


Dark found Author in the hallway off of the kitchen, writing in the dark. 

|Author?|

He was ignored for the frantic scribbling of a pencil. 

He noticed the stack of papers beside him. Poems. Paragraphs. 

He bent down and grabbed the stack, conjuring a chair to wait in. 

And he read.

  
  


_ How do you write like tomorrow won’t arrive? _

_ Write day and night like you need it to survive? _

  
  


It was late when Author finally stopped writing, hand hurting and eyes blinking. He looked at Dark, who held the collection of papers neatly in his hand. 

“Do you need anything?”

|Why were there none of yours in that stack?|

Author got off the floor and cracked his neck before tucking the pad under his arm. 

“I can get them if you want.”

Them? There were multiple?

  
  


_ If I could grant you peace of mind… _

_ Would that be enough? _

  
  


The stack of papers was not what he expected. 

Then Author left the room and came back with another stack, looking much older than the first. And larger.

|What are these?|

“The first one contains either me or other inhabitants of the Void. They’re clipped together.” Indeed, about a third were paperclipped, the others held with a binder clip.

|And the others?|

His lips pursed. “Older things. From before.”

|And you didn’t bring it forth why?|

A listless shrug. “I didn’t care.”

A few blinks. |Why do you now?|

“I… got a different view of things.”

He got more comfortable on the bed. |What do you mean?|

A dry swallow. 

“I know you’re aware of what the afterlife is like.” Of course he knew that he knew what the afterlife was like. He was the Author. “Well, I just had blank pages. No people, no nothing. Nobody was waiting for me.” 

He had the least backstory out of most of them- nobody he cared about, or anybody who cared for him. He was easy to get to understand the way of their universe as characters. He already knew.

“Well, I had almost two years to think. I think that’ll give almost anyone a different perspective.”

Oh. 

|And why didn’t you bring these to me with the rest of them?|

Another shrug, coupled with a sigh. 

“I already got a second chance.”

|Author-|

“You guys could use it.”

|Wilford shrugs off anything even remotely harmful. It’s nothing, to him. It doesn’t fit in his reality.|

“When did that happen?” 

|Wilford Motherlovin’ Warfstache. I suggest getting up to date on that if you have time. Maybe ask the Googles or Yandere for the latest gossip. It’s faster.|

“Yandere… Googles… alright. Wait, there’s more than one Google?”

Ah. Host had appeared on… May 5. Google Gets an Upgrade had been on May 20. Bing, too. 

|There are quite a few newcomers. Not talking about the Septic side, of course. Bing. Three Googles.|

“ _ Three- _ ”

|Phantom Sharp, although you didn’t miss Mare.|

“That makes a bit more sense now.”

|But I’ll leave you to that.| He gathered up the papers. |Get some sleep.| 

Author was left alone in his room. Huh. They actually cared about him.

How had be gotten so lucky?

**Author's Note:**

> Next: Host's view of all of this. Welp. Maybe they'll start forgiving each other. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed, and if any of you lot have finals: good luck! I know your pain! (Oh, don't I know XD)
> 
> Here's the inspiration song for next time if you want a song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scd-uNNxgrU


End file.
